


Consequences  (a “What Lies Beneath” missing scene)

by wraithfodder



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Heartbreak, Language, Mental Anguish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:41:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23177113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithfodder/pseuds/wraithfodder
Summary: The episode "What Lies Beneath" blew apart the lives of both the Hyneks and Captain Quinn. A missing scene for the end of the episode as the full impact of what occured hits them all, but especially Quinn.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	Consequences  (a “What Lies Beneath” missing scene)

**Author's Note:**

> And… I loved this episode but was bothered by the abrupt switch from a horrendous situation in the Hynek home (especially for Quinn!) to HyneQuinn being back in the office, acting as though nothing had occurred. Um, uh-uh. I needed to address the time between when Quinn left Hynek’s home and returned to the office the next morning. This also gave me the opportunity to tackle a few things that had nagged at me from other episodes as well. 😊

Quinn didn’t like leaving the house, but the file he held securely in his grasp had to get back to the base. He stared at the manilla folder, its tell-tale red Top Secret designation stamped on the heavy paper, as he laid it on the passenger seat of his car. He shot one last glance at the unassuming single-floor dwelling, its small lawn now being trampled by police and others. Neighbors, attracted by the sirens, were clustered on the sidewalk. Some of the older women clutched feverishly at their dress collars as the gossip of a murder began to swell through their numbers. The quiet and safety of their suburban enclave had been shattered.

The black Ford Tudor sped down the road, Quinn pressing on the gas pedal to get away from the flashing lights of parked police cars that lined Hynek’s street. He knew that Hynek and Mimi would be okay. The police would be there for quite some time and the suspect was in custody. 

Susie. He slammed the vehicle into a higher gear, the rage of earlier coalescing again in his mind. The hurt, the betrayal, the sheer horror of discovering that she was a Russian agent. His career and life in flames. A car horn blared and he hit the brakes. He just narrowly avoided clipping the fender of a large Dodge. The driver of the other vehicle yelled an obscenity before taking a sharp right and disappearing down a side street. 

Quinn sucked in a deep breath, steadying himself and locking his emotions down again. He’d had to do that before, after the police arrived. He knew if Hynek hadn’t been there behind him, a desperate voice of reason in a sea of insanity, that he just might have shot Susie point blank in the head. 

He still couldn’t reconcile the woman who minutes before had looked so bereft, talking about leaving town forever, whom he wanted to protect, with the image of the cold-blooded murderer who’d shot an unarmed man lying on the floor. A woman whom he loved. Had loved. He didn’t know anymore. But a damned Russian spy! 

Quinn snapped on the radio, raising the volume. He needed to clear his head. A soulful jazz piece wailed as he headed toward Wright-Patterson, music that did more to depress him than anything else. It brought back the time he and Susie had gone to an out-of-the-way jazz club that _she_ had wanted to try out. _She’d_ chosen the dark corner for them to sit. ‘It’s cozy,’ she’d purred. No, she was keeping her cover, removing them from prying eyes. 

Maybe it was just damned good luck, but Special Agent Stevens and his busy group of Office of Special Investigations men were nowhere to be seen. They’d packed it in for the day. Maybe they’d found nothing, which is really what Quinn expected. Fortunately, the guard left behind didn’t challenge his appearance. If they chose to end the working day, return of the stolen files could wait until the morning. But what if they returned? He wrote a brief note regarding its reappearance, leaving it as vague as he dared. He slid it and the folder in a sealed envelope. He addressed it to Stevens and then locked it in his desk. He called the generals, but neither weren’t in their offices, so he just left a message that the file had been recovered. He could wait for the inevitable blow-up the next morning. 

He sat in his car outside the Blue Book office, staring at the cold lights casting a pale illumination across the black pavement. He lit a cigarette, sucking in such a deep breath of smoke that he coughed. Those few dark, life-altering moments at Hynek’s house kept replaying in his mind. A bug. A listening device. Surveillance. How long had that been in Hynek’s phone, what had Susie and her keepers learned from his and Hynek’s conversations? He looked at the passenger seat, his mind automatically conjuring up an image of Susie sitting there, her red lipstick a perfect match for the tight dress nearly glued to her lithe figure. Her laugh, the beautiful smile that had left him feeling—He stomped the memory down, like killing an annoying insect. He had to stay focused. 

Had he left Susie alone in the car for any length of time? If she’d bugged the Hynek household, why not his place? His car? They’d spent time parked in the car but he couldn’t recall anything said or done that would harm his career. But still… he threw the lit cigarette out the window. He grabbed a flashlight from the glove box, then began searching - looking, feeling - for anything out of the ordinary. If anybody came by, he already knew he’d say ‘house keys, gotta be here somewhere.’ Who hadn’t lost their house keys? 

Fifteen minutes of obsessive searching yielded nothing more than a pack of cigarettes he’d obviously dropped. They’d slid under the seat. He tossed the small pack on the car seat, knowing that he’d be burning through those fast. Might as well start now. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it, knowing his next destination. 

It was past ten o’clock when he arrived. Most people tended to start turning out lights around that hour, preparing themselves for another day at a drab job in an office building. Instead, most of the windows in the homes around Hynek’s house were lit up like it was Christmas. Nothing kept people awake like a good murder at your neighbor’s. Judging from lack of people milling around on the sidewalk, the rubberneckers were gone, their desire to see more gore evaporating with the absence of another body bag being wheeled out, or another person in cuffs being shoved into a police car. 

One lone car was still parked in front of the house. Quinn pulled up behind it. The driver got out of the other vehicle almost immediately. He recognized that tall man in a Fedora as one of the detectives who had been there earlier. They spoke briefly, Quinn quickly showing his ID. The policeman wanted to make sure Quinn hadn’t been a reporter. Quinn subtly let the other man talk, dropping tidbits about what had occurred while he’d been gone. Nosy neighbors, nosy reporters, but all of them, police included, were going away with the story of a family friend who came by, trapped in a messy domestic dispute, one which turned lethal when the husband showed up and was shot dead. Sad all around but hey, these things happen, the detective concluded in a bland tone. 

Satisfied that the Hyneks didn’t need his presence anymore, the detective left, the muffler in his car making a rattling noise which eventually disappeared as his car vanished into the dark. Quinn walked up to the door. He paused, focusing on what lay ahead. He rang the doorbell. Seconds passed with no response. He glanced around. At least no one was peering through their curtains from across the street. He knocked a couple times. 

The door abruptly swung open, surprising Quinn. 

“We don’t—!” Hynek began angrily but he gawked when he saw Quinn standing there. Hynek grabbed Quinn by the arm and pulled him inside, shutting the door rapidly. “Damned reporters,” he said in response to Quinn’s wide-eyed stare. 

“You okay, Doc?” 

Hynek ran a hand through mussed hair. He looked exhausted but not unhinged, not like when he’d gone for days without sleep after Fuller had done an impromptu self-immolation in front of both men. 

“Do you want a drink?” Hynek said in response. 

Quinn shook his head, despite the fact that the offer was so damn tempting. 

“Uh, Doc,” he began. “The file’s back at Blue Book. No one was there so we’ll turn it in tomorrow.” 

“You didn’t let the Generals know?” 

“Not in their offices. Did my duty and left a message,” replied Quinn dryly. “The shit’s going to the hit the fan when they find out who stole the file.” 

“Susie.” Hynek said it in an almost repetitive manner, as though forcing himself to remember. To _not_ say his wife’s name. 

“Is Mimi around?” 

A flash of movement off to his left and Quinn almost started, the adrenaline of earlier in the evening still coursing through him. Mimi came out of the small sitting area across from the living room, a whiskey glass of amber liquid in her hand. A look of relief crossed her sad face, but only for a moment. “Do you need a drink?” 

They both knew him too damn well. 

He shook his head again. “I’m on duty.” 

Hynek’s head shot up, a quizzical look on his face. 

“We need to talk about what happened here tonight.” 

“To get our stories straight,” said Hynek. 

Quinn shut his eyes for a moment. “You make it sound like a conspiracy.” 

“Isn’t it?” Hynek started pacing, keeping his voice low. Not like the neighbors could hear but Quinn couldn’t blame the professor if he felt downright paranoid at the moment. 

“The bulk of what we told the police is the truth,” said Quinn carefully. “The man breaking into the house, looking for…” The name which once fell smoothly from his lips now felt like sandpaper. “And that she shot and killed the guy,” he finished, not caring how he chopped the sentence. 

“Domestic dispute.” 

Quinn glanced over at Mimi. She looked numb, sounded just as bad. The ice in her glass tinkled as it struck the side when she took another swallow of the liquor. 

“Doc, Mimi.” Quinn got their attention. “I’m here in an official capacity.” 

Hynek cocked his head. “What does that mean?” 

“That when the Air Force finds out about what happened here tonight, I need to know what you’re going to tell them. When it comes to these answers, we tell the truth, but not necessarily all of it.” 

Hynek’s eyes narrowed, just as they had done when Quinn had flat out called him a liar. 

“Because tomorrow the Air Force is going to discover that we’ve had a Russian spy in our midst – for over a year.” 

A small, strangled noise escaped from Mimi. 

“What we tell them, or don’t tell them, will determine our future.” Crap, now Quinn did feel a conspirator. 

“Do you think Susie really will confess to … everything?” said Mimi. 

Quinn stood there silently. He’d interrogated men in the past, some who hadn’t even been as hard as Susie had been in that moment when she gunned down and then finished off her… accomplice? _Executed him._ Had any of their relationship been real? His feelings for her had been real, but had anything she’d said to _him_ been real? _She’s trained to finish a job_. That desperate look in her eyes as she told him, _what other choice do you have?_ and he’d felt self-loathing roil over him as he realized, no, he didn’t have another choice. 

“Captain?” 

Quinn blinked, regaining composure, wondering what they’d seen on his face as he’d relived that horrible moment. Mimi stared into her drink, what little was left of it. Hynek studied him, dissecting … what? That man was frustratingly good at reading him. 

“She won’t say anything to the local authorities,” Quinn said. “She knows the Air Force will simply come in and pull the Federal jurisdiction card. I doubt she’ll even give her name to the police.” _She been giving you another name? Her real name? _“Her only chance of getting out of this alive is to save us.”__

__“I- I don’t understand,” said Mimi._ _

__“On a state level, she’d be charged with murder,” said Quinn. “But if they discover who she really is, that the victim is a Russian spy as well, the ordinary Feds will take over. With the paranoia these days, she’d end up like the Rosenbergs.”_ _

__Mimi gasped._ _

__“With the Air Force, she has info to trade.” Quinn remembered Rizzuto, how Harding had used that slimy turncoat to try to get to Quinn, for something that Hynek had done. “They might turn her.”_ _

__“Double agent?” said Hynek._ _

__“You do listen to me.” A fleeting moment of normality in the banter, then it was gone._ _

__Quinn looked around the house. “First thing, you and me, Doc, we’re going to check for surveillance devices.”_ _

__“I already did,” said Mimi quietly._ _

__Both men looked at her._ _

__“After I found the one in the phone, while you were both in D.C.,” she explained. “I checked all the phones. And after I told...” She shook her head, looking down at the floor._ _

__“Mimi?” Hynek moved closer to his wife, placed a comforting hand on her arm._ _

__“Susie and I came home. We’d been out,” she continued. “It had been raining.”_ _

__Quinn knew that was useless information but when people were in shock, they dwelled on stuff like that._ _

__“There were police or agents at Jack’s house. They took him away. Said they’d found listening devices in his basement, that he was a communist sympathizer,” said Mimi. “Susie said, he must have put the device in our phone. But it was _her_ , not him.” _ _

__“And Donna disappearing,” added Hynek._ _

__Quinn’s eyes widened in shock. He stared in horror at the people in front of him. “When the fuck were you going to tell me about all this?”_ _

__“Captain!” snapped Hynek._ _

__Quinn ran a hand through his hair, not caring if he looked like he was losing it because he was that close. “Doc, your neighbor’s busted as a commie and you didn’t think it was important to tell me??”_ _

__Hynek gave that ‘two hands spread out’ gesture that drove Quinn flat out nuts._ _

__“And who the hell is Donna?” demanded Quinn._ _

__“Jack’s wife.” Mimi cringed at Quinn’s harsh tone. “She—” Mimi blanched. “Oh my god, Susie. The way she just shot that man… Donna knew about her, had talked with her, what if…”_ _

___Susie killed the neighbor’s wife? Framed the neighbor as a Commie? Jesus_. Quinn didn’t say it out loud, not with how shaky Mimi was looking. _ _

__Instead, Quinn sucked in a deep breath, calming himself because he knew if he didn’t regain composure then neither of the two people in front of him would either._ _

__“Okay,” said Quinn, modulating his voice down to the calm, collected person he felt nothing like at the moment. “Allen and I are going to double-check for any bugs. I have a good idea where they’ll be if they exist.”_ _

__“I can help.” Mimi fixed her gaze on Quinn._ _

__“Um, fine, work with Allen. Sometimes two eyes on one spot is better than one.” He looked meaningfully at Hynek, hoping that the man caught the hint. Hynek nodded._ _

__Fortunately, with the Hyneks helping, the search time was knocked down to less than half an hour. He knew what to look for, the prime spots. Nothing in the lights, behind furniture, in planters or phones. Hynek knew where all the wiring was and wasn’t averse to popping off the electric outlets to check them. They all met back in front of the living room, where a badly drawn chalk line still traced where the Russian spy had died. The cops wanted that to stay for another day in case they needed more photos. Quinn ironically thought how lucky the Hyneks were that the bullets hadn’t been through-and-through. No slugs needed to be dug out of the nice wood floor, no blood stains or brains splattered messily on the rug. The blood that had spattered across the floor had been wiped clean. He knew the cops hadn’t done it. Not their job. Mimi? Nope. Quinn was pretty sure Hynek had cleaned it up to spare his wife the further horror._ _

__Once they all confirmed the house was clean of devices, now came the part Quinn dreaded, the true reason for his visit. He looked at his watch. It was getting late but it had to be done._ _

__“Okay, Doc. I need to borrow your office to talk with Mimi. Alone.”_ _

__“There’s nothing—”_ _

__“Doc, I am now talking to you as an officer in the Air Force. Not your partner.” _Not your friend_ , but he couldn’t quite say that, not in this situation. “I need to conduct these interviews separately.” _ _

__“Interviews,” repeated Hynek, the aggravation not hidden._ _

__“Yes.”_ _

__“Allen,” interrupted Mimi. “I understand.”_ _

___Thank God._ _ _

__“What we’re going to discuss you probably already know,” added Quinn. “But I need to make sure there’s no… influence, in the response.”_ _

__Hynek glowered at him._ _

__“Allen.” Mimi pulled Hynek aside, talking so softly that Quinn couldn’t hear but whatever she said, Hynek relented. He swept his arm in an unspoken gesture toward his office._ _

__Quinn shut the door behind him, arranging the chairs in front of the desk so that they’d be opposite each other. A person behind a desk held power, had the barrier of protection, while the other person sat exposed, vulnerable. Quinn didn’t want to make this anymore unpleasant for Mimi than it already was. She sat down, clenching her hands together in her lap. He wasn’t sure where the glass of liquor had gone._ _

__“First, take a deep breath.”_ _

__Mimi looked confused._ _

__“This is not an interrogation, it’s just an informal interview,” said Quinn. “And this is off-the-record. I need to know everything about Susie that you can tell me so that I- we- can be prepared for tomorrow. I have no doubt that you and Allen will be called in for an interview at some point with the Air Force, because you were Susie’s first target. Consider this a rehearsal of sorts.”_ _

__Mimi nodded._ _

__Quinn started off with finding out how Mimi and Susie met, what they did together, letting Mimi talk and go off-topic as much as she needed to in order to maintain a calm demeanor. So much of it was mundane and harmless. He gently guided her back when necessary, very slowly broaching more disturbing queries of did anything occur or did you do anything that you’d be embarrassed to talk about. The gun came up, something he already knew about as she’d told the police. Allen hadn’t even known about that, but he could understand why a woman alone a lot of the time of being afraid, especially after Fuller had broken into the house. The mysterious Mr. Miller, ‘Cal’, who had abused his wife but whom no one had ever met. Was he real, or an accomplice still lurking out there? Or maybe he was the guy in the body bag._ _

__Quinn laughed a little, easing the tension in the room, when Mimi flushed and told him about the underground beatnik bar she and Susie had gone to early on in their friendship. The untoward things she’d seen and how she’d sprinted out of there like a ‘scared rabbit.’ He guessed that whatever entertainment she and Hynek took in was definitely more conservative in taste._ _

__She told him everything about her involvement with the UFO group, which he’d actually managed to get out of Hynek after the surprising run-in with Mimi and Evan on the fairgrounds in Hopkinsville. There was nothing there to speak of, nothing except the poor judgement of listening to Evan about the alleged Hangar 18 material and then deciding to act on it. He couldn’t fault her on trying to protect her family. It was a human reaction. It wasn’t as though _he_ hadn’t exercised incredibly poor judgement himself. Letting a pretty face, a finger tapping curiously on the wings on his chest, playing the proverbial dumb blonde and showing interest in him. He’d investigated her, but hadn’t turned up facts to verify what she’d told him. If he’d only dug deeper, maybe he would have found out there was no Mr. and Mrs. Miller living in New York, that maybe there wasn’t even a Mr. Miller at all. He’d screwed up big time. _ _

__“And well, I mean, our friendship cooled a little after that,” said Mimi._ _

__“What?” Quinn realized he’d just missed part of what she said._ _

__Mimi just got more flustered, her cheeks burning._ _

__“Look, what you tell me here won’t go past me unless you want it to.” Quinn smiled tentatively as Mimi looked up finally. “If you don’t want Allen to know, I won’t say a thing.”_ _

__She nodded, drawing in a deep breath. “There’d been signs, indications, but I ignored them, as she was—” Mimi’s tentativeness eroded like sand swept away by an ocean wave. “ _Had _been a good friend. When you and Allen were in D.C., during that whole flying saucer situation. She made a pass at me. I told her point blank that I wasn’t interested, that I just wanted to be friends. After that, we still saw each other, but not as much.”___ _

____After D.C. …_ Quinn’s blood ran cold. Hanging in his favorite bar, enjoying a drink, and then Susie Miller had sashayed in. Mr. Miller was ‘out of the picture,’ she’d said, the meaning of that statement obvious. Drinks and talk. There had been a date or two before that ‘chance’ encounter, but nothing serious – until Mimi had put the kibosh on Susie’s plans. Susie had then moved on to the next mark – him. What a complete fool he’d been. _ _ _

__Mimi sat there, her fingers fidgeting. Quinn just watched, then after a moment, said “There’s something else, isn’t there?”_ _

__“Last year, when things were rather stressful, Susie came over.” Mimi paused, her face looking as if she felt she were in an interrogation. “We got to talking and drinking. I got… drunk.”_ _

__Quinn smiled. “Everybody gets drunk at one point or another.”_ _

__“I mean _drunk_.” Mimi fidgeted more. “I passed out. I’ve never done that before, but before that, she, um… kissed me.” Her meek voice vanished, words coming out in a rapid sequence as if she just wanted to get it over with. “I mean, it didn’t go any further, I just passed out. When I woke up, Susie was gone but she’d left a note, saying she wanted me to get sleep. Something like that.” _ _

__Quinn had never gotten that drunk with Susie, definitely never to point of passing out. He never knew when he might be called to duty. They’d be laughing, enjoying each other’s company, just being silly. There had been a couple times when she’d left the room, returning with drinks in hand, but he’d just taken the liquor and put it aside. He hadn’t needed the alcohol. He’d been too intrigued with her soft, smooth skin, the seductive trace of her curves under the delicate silk negligee, as they lay in bed together. Had she tried to drug him? Take compromising pictures? Had Susie drugged Mimi and done just that? Mimi had no career to ruin, but Hynek? It would do some damage at Blue Book, but Quinn was pretty sure it would destroy his job at the university. Schools had morals to uphold. Not that the military didn’t, it was just if scantily clad or naked pictures were given to the Generals, it might just be major embarrassment for Hynek._ _

__“Quinn?” A hand touched his arm and he jerked back slightly. Mimi glanced at him. Worry was etched in her tired features._ _

__“I’m fine,” he lied. He was losing focus. He’d been doing that from the moment he’d walked out of the house and nearly driven into another car._ _

__Back to Mimi, the kiss. Damn. He hoped to God that Susie had not taken incriminating photos. If Susie had done that and it got out, he’d kill her. Maybe he should have done that when he’d had the chance._ _

__“I can’t believe how she used me, you. I never saw—”_ _

__“Yeah,” he agreed with a heavy sigh. At least the Doc had kept his promise of not disclosing his and Susie’s relationship to anyone, although that sure wasn’t a secret anymore after the scene in the living room._ _

__“Oh.”_ _

__The word came out so quietly Quinn barely heard it. Mimi stood stock still in her chair, her eyes staring at the floor at some awful recollection._ _

__“Mimi.”_ _

__“Susie was at the Blue Book office.”_ _

__Quinn felt relieved. “Yes, I know. I’d had a meeting with her and ..her husband after Lt. Fuller broke into your home.” The black eye. An obvious play to be the battered woman, a victim, one that needed ‘support’. He’d been drawn to that like a moth to a flame. “Although he never showed, of course.”_ _

__“No, not then.” Mimi looked up. “When I couldn’t reach Allen when you were both in Alabama, we both went to the office.”_ _

__Quinn frowned, not liking what he was hearing._ _

__“She said she felt faint, needed to freshen up. Faye let her go back to the ladies’ room.”_ _

__Quinn didn’t say anything, just stared blankly at Mimi as the repercussions of that statement lined up. _Let her go back._ Unescorted. Past the Blue Book office entry. Or rather, through it. _Shit_. Had she planted bugs in the phones? Had she had had time? Would the OSI have checked the phone for bugs? Theft and spying went hand in hand at times. _ _

__“You couldn’t have known. I’ll speak with Faye about it.”_ _

__“Faye did nothing wrong. She—”_ _

__“I know that,” Quinn cut in quickly. “I just want to prepare her in case there are questions.” Or consequences. No good deed ever goes unpunished._ _

__“What if Susie doesn’t keep her word, tells everyone that I—”_ _

__He remembered the look on Susie’s face- that emotionless mask when she’d shot and killed a man, then the flicker of eyelashes, a glimmer of tears, when she said she was sorry. What was the real Susie Miller, or whatever the hell her name was?_ _

__“It won’t come to that,” he finally replied._ _

__Mimi abruptly stood up and if Quinn hadn’t been half-aware of his surroundings, he knew he’d probably would have fallen off the chair._ _

__“No, do _not_ do that to me,” she demanded. “I’ve made a… disaster. My family could pay the price. I need truth, not coddling.” _ _

__Quinn felt a feeling of heaviness descend on him like a smothering blanket. “You stole Top Secret material. You broke into a military facility. With all this cold war paranoia…hell, even without it… decades in a federal prison.”_ _

__Mimi fell back into her chair._ _

__This time he did reach over, placed his hand in a comforting gesture atop her shaking hand._ _

__“That’s _not_ going to happen,” he said again, squeezing her hand. “There’s no evidence that you took the file.” At least he sure hoped that was the case. _ _

__His fate, though, if Susie told the Generals about their relationship… colluding with the enemy. Being busted in rank and banished to some remote outpost on a frozen island at the very best, but dishonorable discharge, court martial or prison at worst, unless she’d actually found Top Secret material and sent it to her superiors, then treason would come into play. His mind slammed that door shut quickly, not wanting to think about the electric chair._ _

__Quinn shook his head, eyes quickly scanning the room, now wishing Mimi had brought that glass of liquor with her but then alternately glad she hadn’t. The ‘what ifs’ that he never dwelled on in the past seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his skull and it was getting damned crowded._ _

__“Give me a minute,” he said, not wanting Mimi to think his mind had wandered off again. He mulled over everything she’d told him, then he told her how to handle any questioning with the military, to tell the truth, but offer as little detail as possible. That’s where many people slipped up. To not mention the kiss, which suddenly made Mimi look worried, until he explained that there would always be one person who would think the worst even though nothing happened. He made sure to emphasize _nothing happened_ even though he knew darned well that awful things could have happened, but living with that uncertainty might eat Mimi alive. To de-emphasize anything about her meetings with the UFO groups. The government wasn’t at all fond of them, and for ‘God’s sake’, he said, making sure their eyes locked as he spoke, you knew nothing of that file you _did not_ steal until that thug broke into the house, understand?’ _ _

__Mimi nodded._ _

__Quinn shifted in his chair. He let Mimi talk more, even when she rambled on for minutes, about how Donna would always drop by, how she made the best chocolate chip cookies and how Mimi never got the recipe. It seemed to calm her, but he knew it was temporary. He reached out, both hands wrapping around hers. She didn’t pull away at the unusual intimate gesture, instead seeking solace in the physical contact._ _

__“I’m not going to lie to you, Mimi,” he said quietly. “Seeing someone killed is difficult. The next few days are going to be rough, even seem impossible at times. Sleep is going to be tough. Take it easy on the alcohol, it really won’t help. If you need to talk – if either of you need to talk,” he corrected. “Just call.” He knew he’d try to help them through it, but it was challenging for him as well. There were times when he sadly realized that he’d seen so many dead people in the war that it was tough to muster any emotion on seeing a corpse anymore._ _

__Mimi started sniffling. “What am I going to tell Joel?! Nancy said she’d drop him off tomorrow afternoon.”_ _

__Shit, he’d totally forgotten about their kid. Thank God Joel hadn’t been in the house during the shooting._ _

__“The truth, as we’re telling it.” Lies - _“What other choice do you have?” Susie had said - a tangled web that entwined them all, that might choke them all if she changed her mind, found a better deal._ “Domestic fight. It’s what all the neighbors are probably talking about. Joel’s young. Death is still a bit abstract to him because he hasn’t experienced it first-hand.” He remembered how ‘cool’ Joel thought he was, being a fighter pilot in the war. How many people had he killed? the boy had asked with an eager grin. _ _

__Mimi nodded silently._ _

__Quinn slowly pulled his hands away, then stood up. Mimi seemed to realize he’d done so, then stood herself._ _

__“What do I tell Allen?” she asked, no doubt thinking about those items Quinn had warned her against telling the Air Force._ _

__A touchy situation. What a husband and wife shared was none of his business, but her question showed that she understood the severity of their situation. Hynek, on the other hand, sometimes let his pursuit of ‘getting to the bottom of it’ override common sense, like when he told Valentine about that mountain base at Area 51._ _

__“What I told you not to tell the Air Force,” he began. “No, don’t tell him.”_ _

__Mimi looked uncomfortable_ _

__“If it has to come out, we’ll deal with it then.” Quinn offered a reassuring smile, but his mind was thinking, collusion, conspiracy, court martial. He was beginning to hate words that began with the letter ‘c.”_ _

__When Quinn opened the door, he half-expected Hynek to fall in and land flat on his face, but the man was nowhere in sight. Quinn gave Mimi a reassuring pat on the arm. She half-smiled, then headed slowly towards the bedroom._ _

__“Doc?”_ _

__Hynek appeared almost instantly from around the corner. He’d been waiting in the living room. Quinn realized that was going to be a tough room to use, even if the bloodstains were gone. The memory of a corpse lying there would not fade quickly. Without even being asked, Hynek went past Quinn into his office, where he grabbed the chair Quinn had pulled from behind the desk, and put it back in its proper place. He sat down, folded hands on the desk top and waited. The power position._ _

__Quinn shut the door, then paced about the small room, thinking. He caught a glimpse of Hynek watching him, obviously confused as this was not what he was expecting. Good. He needed Hynek off-balance. He had to be gentle with Mimi, but Hynek? All bets were off. After a second, he spun around and remained standing._ _

__“Doc, I need you to empty your drawers.”_ _

__Hynek’s reaction was priceless. He looked surprised, then extremely annoyed. He stood up, begrudgingly reached into pants pockets and dug out a few coins, which he dumped on the desk pad._ _

__Quinn smiled. God, he needed that so badly. “Not your pants, Doc. Your desk drawers.”_ _

__The quizzical expression evaporated off Hynek’s face like dew off a hot rock. “You don’t trust me?”_ _

__“This isn’t about trust. It’s about the Air Force possibly showing up here to make the same request,” said Quinn._ _

__“That’s ridiculous.”_ _

___Oh God, not that damned attitude again._ “Do you want Joel visiting his mother in a federal pen?” _ _

__Hynek’s eyes glittered icily behind his glasses. “That is low.”_ _

__“Life’s not fair,” said Quinn flatly. “I’m trying to keep you, your wife, and myself out of spending the next quarter century in six by eight cells.”_ _

__There. Simple logic and some numbers thrown in and the impact hit Hynek smack between the eyes. He sat down, began methodically pulling files out of drawers. As he did it, Quinn grabbed a stack and started going through them. They repeated the process, file drawers, shelves, etc. until Hynek gasped when he dug into a deep shelf area, one half hidden by a sliding door._ _

__Quinn nearly dropped the stack of papers in his lap. “What?”_ _

__Hynek yanked his arm out of the area and held up his hand. “My last pair of glasses! I’ve been looking for these for a decade!”_ _

__“Just give me a heart attack,” Quinn muttered under his breath. He stood up and dumped the stack on Hynek’s desk. “You’re clear.”_ _

__“As I _knew_ I would be.” _ _

__“I had to be sure.”_ _

__“I told _you_ that you could trust me.” Hynek carefully placed the latest stack of papers back into its proper drawer. “Don’t you trust me?” he repeated. _ _

__“Yes, no. I… I don’t know who to trust anymore.” Quinn felt his voice catch in his throat. He coughed, turned away quickly before Hynek could see the exposed moment as Susie’s betrayal just slammed into him like a bulldozer. He heard papers shuffling behind him, muttering he couldn’t make out._ _

__“Doc, you need to change the lock on your garage door,” Quinn announced, turning back around, his face now schooled into an impassive mask. “In fact, you need to change _every_ lock in this house. Doors, desk, anything with a lock. Get a damned deadbolt for the garage port door. This isn’t the first time it’s been circumvented. First it was Fuller, then Susie, then damned William and now this fucking Russian. For God’s sake, Doc, you work with classified material. You can’t be lax about stuff like this.” _ _

__“I wasn’t,” Hynek countered after a moment, totally silent on the profanity-laced request. “How was I to know Susie was a Russian spy? Even you—”_ _

__Dead silence consumed the room like an oppressive fog._ _

__Quinn had no idea what his expression looked like to Hynek, but Hynek stood abruptly and headed to the door. “I’ll be back in a second.” Hynek left the room. The door creaked very slightly as it swung back but didn’t close._ _

__Quinn blinked, staring at the empty office. He took several steadying breathes, remembering what he was there for and beating himself mentally in the head for going off track. Pushing Susie and all she’d done out of his thoughts. There’d be time enough to deal with that, when he was alone, and it wouldn’t matter if he punched his fist into a wall._ _

__Hynek returned, a bottle of bourbon in one hand, two whiskey glasses clamped between fingers on the other hand. Hynek put the glasses down, filling them part way. He held one out toward Quinn._ _

__Quinn shook his head._ _

__“I’ve never seen you refuse bourbon. In fact, I usually see you drink too much of it,” remarked Hynek. He sat down. After waiting for Quinn to take the glass off the desk, realizing that he wouldn’t, Hynek drank some of the bourbon from his glass._ _

__“I’m on duty.”_ _

__Hynek actually rolled his eyes at the blatant lie._ _

__“Do you want to talk about it?” “No.” He knew precisely what _it _was. Susie. Make that a _Hell No_. Quinn stared at the door, refusing to make eye contact with Hynek. Refusing to show any emotion. Just a complete shutdown that even an idiot with the IQ of a low watt appliance bulb could figure out. Eventually he heard a heavy sigh emanate from the direction of the desk. ___ _

__“Is there anything I need to know about your ‘interview’ with Mimi?”_ _

__Quinn felt his hand wrap around a whiskey glass, an invisible one that wasn’t there, an automatic reaction from too many years of experience. He flexed the fingers out instead, laying his hand against the chair arm._ _

__“She’s a strong woman, Doc, even if she has picked a bad habit or two from you,” said Quinn. No pithy response to the obvious ‘you both steal government secrets’ accusation, so he continued. “It’ll be tough, knowing someone was killed in your home. Worse, that someone you trusted implicitly has betrayed you.”_ _

__Quinn lifted his gaze over to Hynek, who, as he expected, was studying his partner like a lab specimen, What Quinn didn’t like was that there wasn’t any of that superiority he was accustomed to seeing Hynek display, just a calm, quiet concern. That was even worse._ _

__“Doc, at the university. Are any of your colleagues shrinks?”_ _

__Hynek was caught off-guard by the request. “Um, no. No psychiatrists. We have a professor of psychology and she is an actual psychologist.”_ _

__“Are you on good terms with her?” asked Quinn._ _

__“What kind of question is that?” said Hynek._ _

__“Last week you were wearing my ear off complaining about Professor High-muckety-muck-whatever about his idiotic grading system.”_ _

__“Highmaster, and yes, point taken,” agreed Hynek reluctantly. “However, Dr. Bannister. Our professor of psychology. Yes, we are on quite good terms. In fact, Clara and I have lunch occasionally at the university.”_ _

__“Can she counsel children?”_ _

__Hynek didn’t reply, but Quinn knew his question had hit home. Joel would be back tomorrow, to a neighborhood and other children buzzing about the murder in _his_ home. He’d have to walk through a room where a man had died violently. Parents who were traumatized. _ _

__“Kids are resilient, in fact, sometimes they handle this stuff better than the adults,” said Quinn, remembering some of what he’d seen during the war. “But parents aren’t always as strong. My advice is have Joel and Mimi talk with this Karen—”_ _

__“Clara,” corrected Hynek._ _

__“Clara.” Damn, he needed that drink badly. “Doc, I remember what you were like after Fuller died.”_ _

__It was so quiet Quinn thought he heard a clock ticking. Did Hynek have a clock in his office?_ _

__“Okay,” said Hynek._ _

__Quinn couldn’t think of anything else. They’d talked earlier while Mimi spoke at length with the police. Their ‘stories’ all lined up and all they could do was hope was that Susie kept her mysterious promise to keep Mimi out of the theft. He had no idea how that was going to occur as she was in police custody. He seriously doubted he would have a private moment with Susie ever again, which would be beneficial for her continued lifespan with the way he presently felt about her._ _

__“I’ll pick you up in the morning,” Quinn said._ _

__“You’re picking me up?”_ _

__“Yes,” said Quinn. “It’s so we —I want to make sure everything’s okay.”_ _

__Both men left the office. Mimi wasn’t around that they could see so Quinn assumed she’d retreated to the sanctuary of the bedroom._ _

__“Um, Captain.”_ _

__Quinn turned. Hynek looked… dismayed? He was looking down at Quinn’s feet. “What?”_ _

__“You’ve got blood splatter on your pants leg.”_ _

__Quinn looked down at his legs. His mind instantly recalled the precise spot where he’d stood when Susie had fired off the fatal shot. Right pants leg. He turned the leg, now seeing the almost imperceptible spray against the dark fabric. “Fuck,” he hissed._ _

__“We have to work on your language skills.”_ _

__“Really, Doc?” groused Quinn, then saw Hynek’s wan smile. “I’ll try. Eight a.m. good for you?”_ _

__Hynek nodded. Quinn left, waiting for the door to shut behind him before walking away, cursing silently under his breath about the blood on his clothing._ _

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Allen draped his bathrobe on the chair near the bed, put the book on the end table. He carefully slid under the sheets so as not to disturb Mimi. She was in a nightgown, curled up on her side of the bed, facing an empty whiskey glass on the end table. That was not normal, but then their day had been anything but normal. 

As he pulled the soft sheets up toward his chest, Mimi rolled over, instantly latching onto him, burying her head into his shoulder, one hand grasping at his pajama top. 

“How could I be _so_ stupid?” 

Stealing the file. He knew what she meant. He ran his hand slowly down her dark hair. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t done the same thing at White Forest. Quinn had been furious. Beyond furious, really. It had been an incredibly stupid thing to do and, in the end, he’d discovered that he’d simply been a _tool _for William, just as Mimi had been used by Susie, as Susie had used Quinn.__

__“We’ll get through this.”_ _

__“I’d trusted her. I’d let her into _our home.” Allen felt a shudder course through her. “I’d left her alone with _Joel_.” __ _

__A second later, Allen heard the fear in Mimi in evaporate, replaced by a more primal emotion: rage._ _

__“And how she just _shot_ that man…” Mimi’s fist angrily clenched the fabric of Allen’s pajama top into a tight wad of fabric. He grimaced a little as the grasp caught some of his chest hairs. _ _

__After the police had removed the body, taken everybody’s statements, they’d been left there with just one detective who’d told Allen to leave the chalk on the floor there for the next day or so in case they needed more photos. Hynek told the detective in no uncertain terms that if they wanted more photos they had until precisely noon the next day because there was no way he was forcing his family to see it a second longer than they had to. When Mimi had stood there, almost numb in appearance, she’d mumbled about gloves and bleach as she stared at the darkening red stain. Allen had sent Mimi to the bedroom and dealt with the blood himself._ _

__Mimi let go of Allen. He breathed a tiny breath of relief. She grabbed her pillow, punching it a bit too hard in order to puff it, then sat up. Crossed her arms against her chest. She was angry but he could still see the worry eating away at her. Her hand reached out to the end table and took hold of the empty glass. She stared at it, got out of bed and left the room, returning a moment later with a half-full glass._ _

__The world had gone mad. Mimi had poured herself a double, and Quinn was refusing all alcohol._ _

__“What did the Captain talk to you about?” asked Mimi._ _

__“Files, security, and-“ Allen grabbed the book off the end table and dumped it in his lamp. He flipped open the Yellow Pages phone book. “He read me the riot act about the door locks. Last year, you replaced the front door lock. What locksmith did you use?”_ _

__Mimi pulled the Yellow Pages over to her side of the bed. She briskly flipped through the thin pages, then ran a manicured finger down the page. She dog-eared the corner of the page, and handed it back to Allen. “Lewis’ Locksmith. They were good.”_ _

__Allen perused the ad, which had a decent amount of detail as to their services. His eyes lit up when he saw “24-hour emergency service” in small type at the bottom of the ad. He grabbed the phone and dialed. After several rings, an answering service picked up. A quick discussion ensued. He opted for a 7:00 a.m. appointment because that wouldn’t be on their emergency service rate, and he’d be there when they arrived. They wouldn’t be done before he was gone, but he could assure Mimi things would be okay if he left for work. Quinn would also arrive and see that Allen had taken the suggestion to heart and was doing it. Quinn had been right. That entryway had its faults. Maybe he should replace it with bars like that strange house he and Quinn had visited in Nevada, the one neither of them ever wanted to go back to again._ _

__Allen hung up the phone and put it back on the table, tempted for just a second to call Quinn to let him know what was happening, but then thought, no, a phone ringing at midnight would probably set off Quinn. He turned to Mimi. “When you talked to the Captain, did… did anything come up that I should know about?”_ _

__Mimi looked uncomfortable, then she told him about that strange nightclub in the basement, how she’d heard about the place and been, well, curious. As the details flowed, Allen’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ve heard some of my students talk about these places,” he said. “Avant Garde or something like that.” He almost laughed, until Susie’s name came up. Mimi’s tone of voice became icy. “I was uncomfortable with some of what I saw but Susie. It didn’t phase her at all. I thought, it was because she was from New York, or at least _she said_ she was from there. Was _anything_ she said the truth?” Mimi turned to Allen. _ _

__“I don’t know.”_ _

__Allen shook his head, his mind wandering back to the oil lamp-lit porch in Kentucky. To when he saw a completely different side of Quinn when he’d told Allen that he was seeing Susie. Just how his face had lit up when he spoke about her. “I like her, Doc. I like her a _lot _.” His spontaneous laugh when Hynek had repeated those same words back to him about Mimi. Quinn had fallen hard for the woman.___ _

___And in a matter of perhaps a minute, she’d torn that love to shreds and shown it for the deception it had been._ _ _

___“I’m worried.”_ _ _

___Allen turned to Mimi, edging over in the bed until their shoulders touched. “We’ll be okay. We’ll get through this.” Mimi turned to him, those deep brown eyes looking in to his. The reason he’d told Quinn ‘I like her, I like her a _lot_.’ That marvelous spark was still there. He couldn’t imagine it being ripped away from him, finding out it was all a lie. It had to be killing Quinn. _ _ _

__“Did you notice anything strange about the Captain?”_ _

__Allen looked across the room, staring but not really seeing anything, thinking back. “The fact that he refused a drink, that he kept—”_ _

__“Drifting away?” finished Mimi. “We’d talk but then I’d look up and he wasn’t, well, there. I’d have to grab his attention.”_ _

__“I know,” agreed Hynek. There had been a few brief glimpses of an unguarded Quinn, where Hynek witnessed deep pain in the dark eyes, before they shuttered and locked out the outside world. He knew that kind of pain wasn’t about possibly losing his job. “I really think he loved her, and then she turns out to be a Russian spy.” He still couldn’t believe that but there had been the empirical proof, standing right in front of him in the living room. “And she was slee—using him to try to get secrets.”_ _

__“I knew she was seeing someone,” said Mimi. “Someone she said she _really_ liked. I just didn’t realize…” _ _

__“They were keeping it secret.” Hynek recalled Quinn’s words on that porch. It seemed so long ago. Both of them kicking back, sharing a bottle of bourbon. One of the few times he’d actually had time to smoke his pipe while on a case and enjoy it._ _

__“She _was_ my friend, my best friend.” Mimi looked straight into Allen’s eyes, determination hardening her features. “I cannot tell you how _betrayed_ I feel right now. How she took my trust and my friendship, and used me to get to Blue Book. How much it _hurts_ that she did that to me, to my _family_!” _ _

__Allen enveloped her in a reassuring hug. She reciprocated, her arms wrapping so tight around him it was a little uncomfortable. She rested her head against his shoulder. “If it hurts this much for _me_ , for my friendship to be destroyed, I can’t imagine how Quinn is feeling.” _ _

__Quinn might have killed Susie in the living room. Hynek was certain of that. He’d witnessed Quinn’s volatile temper on cases, remembered his contempt for Von Braun and the Germans working in Alabama. He’d fought and killed people like them in the war. Russian spies? Even worse. And Quinn had fallen for a woman who represented what he despised the most. _I don’t know who to trust anymore._ Quinn’s strangled words of not long ago had stuck in Allen’s mind. _ _

__“Will you talk with him?” she asked._ _

__“He’s picking me up in the morning,” replied Allen. “We can talk on the drive in.”_ _

__Allen held onto Mimi for a few more minutes, until she finally relaxed and settled back on the bed. He leaned over, kissing her gently on the cheek. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”_ _

__Mimi turned her head toward him, then kissed him lightly on the lips. She drew him back into an embrace. He pulled the covers up close over both of them. He didn’t care that he left the lamp on. If a nightmare came, at least he wouldn’t awaken in the dark, nor would be alone. Just having Mimi there with him made him feel secure._ _

__As Mimi drifted off to sleep, Hynek stared at the ceiling. Sadness uncharacteristically crept into him as his thoughts invariably turned toward his partner, the deep pain in his eyes, the quaver in his voice. Quinn would return to apartment steeped in conflicting memories. He’d be alone, no one to comfort him because that person had just ripped out his heart._ _

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It had been ten minutes since he’d arrived home, come through the door, locked it, thought glumly how he would have to change all his locks now. How he’d gotten home he wasn’t sure. The entire trip seemed a blur of blackness and just being on automatic, his subconscious knowing where to go. 

And then Quinn had stopped. He’d left his shoes by the front entrance, taken several steps into the room and stopped, frozen in place, frozen in time. He’d dispassionately looked over his apartment as if it were a case he was on and were there aliens hiding under the couch? Where to start? What to do first? Collapse on the couch, get some sleep, his body demanded desperately, the adrenaline that had been kicked into overdrive earlier was now totally spent. 

No, he had to know. It’s a case, there’s a suspect, not Susie, a suspect. 

Wire taps, theft. It’s not like she was leaving wire-snares in the rug to catch him, hang him upside-down like a prey animal to be gutted. He’d been thankful he’d worn boots out to that Nevada ranch, otherwise his ankle might be damaged by the snare which that whacky neighbor had set. Skinwalkers. The one he’d seen – _thought _he’d seen- had freaked him out and given him a nightmare or two, but now that seemed tame compared to…__

__Suspect, a suspect, this was a case, his mind screamed at him, all the while pushing fervently against the door which his emotions threatened to batter through and swamp him._ _

__He took a step forward, feeling the soft pile of the area rug beneath his foot. He stared at his right pants leg, where the light just barely showed the blood spatter. He didn’t want that rubbing off on the rug, or any furniture, so he took off his pants. They’d go to the cleaners. He thought a second, then took off his suit jacket, socks, then everything till he was just in briefs and undershirt. Fuck it. It was his place. He could walk around naked and who would care? He folded everything neatly, taking care to fold the bloodstained pants leg in on itself so as not to stain anything else, and placed it all in a laundry bag, then stuffed it in the closet._ _

__He could imagine the conversation when he took the bag to the dry cleaners… _What kind of stain is this? Blood. Blood, like people blood? Human blood? Yeah, my girlfriend shot and killed her Commie conspirator. I just got splattered with some of the blood. Sad, but hey, these things happen. Tuesday okay for pickup? Sure._ _ _

__He’d started with the phones. Both bedroom and living room had devices in them. When had Susie installed those? He’d foolishly shown her the spare key, hadn’t complained a bit when she’d used it, as well, she’s greeted him in an incredible lacy black outfit that left little to the imagination. And when she’d ripped his belt off, all intelligent thought had gone out the window._ _

__It took over an hour to search the apartment but there was nothing else suspicious, nor was there any remnant of Susie. She’d done an excellent job of removing her presence. The toiletries that had been cluttered on the sink that morning were gone. Clothing gone from the dresser drawer. The suitcase she’d put in the closet. “I’m not running off to Rio,” she’d laughed when he’d seen her place it there. “A girl just can’t walk around with her lingerie in her arms when she comes to visit. It wouldn’t be proper.” He’d never opened it, didn’t even know if she’d kept it locked, what was in there. Spare clothes, enough to go on the run when the authorities closed in? Had she stolen any files off his desk?_ _

__Fortunately, he’d been able to account for everything in and on top of his desk. He morosely realized that he had to go along with the thought that she’d been through everything of his, that if had anything truly personal in the apartment, she’d seen it, analyzed it, would it be useful to her and her superiors. The only bright spot is that he knew there was nothing approaching blackmail material anywhere. Sure, he had books, photos from the war, letters, but no diaries or anything like that detailing events that would have him tossed out of the service. He kept his life personal, everything locked up in a head now overloaded with what if’s and why didn’t I’s?_ _

__The two listening devices sat atop the desk pad, a glint of light off their silver bodies reminding him of how some witnesses described UFOs. Right now, if a UFO pulled up outside the window, he’d gladly be abducted, have them erase his memories as Thomas Mann had said had been done to him. Just the last day would be enough, thank you. Should he bring these devices to the Generals? It was a dilemma. He could lie, say he didn’t know how they’d gotten there but if the OSI snooped around… had any of his neighbors seen Susie come in and out of his apartment. They’d flash her mugshot, and with his luck, one would go _“Oh, yes, that pretty gal, came and went at all hours of the night!”_ _ _

__He’d risk it and not tell the Generals, not until it was necessary. He stuffed the incriminating little devices into an envelope and tossed it in a desk drawer._ _

__The fridge still had more than enough food in it for one person, but that was easily explained. He remembered visiting one of war buddies in ’50, shocked at how the kitchen looked more like a commercial establishment, every shelf stuffed with canned and dried goods. Fenton explained how he couldn’t ever forget starving for days after he’d been shot down behind enemy lines. ‘Never again,’ he’d exclaimed with an odd fervor. The war had done a lot of damage to people’s minds, Quinn had concluded._ _

__He’d actually searched the refrigerator, including the freezer, in case she’d hidden something in there. _“The gun I used to kill Donna the neighbor? It’s wrapped in foil in the freezer. Labeled leg of lamb.”_ No weapons, bugs, anything that wasn’t food. The frozen blueberries he’d bought not along ago, with an idea of Susie hanging around for a lazy weekend breakfast of blueberry pancakes, were in the front. He stared at the package in his hand, then threw it in the waste basket. A second later, he retrieved in, put it back in the freezer and slammed it shut. She’d taken everything else from him, he wasn’t going to let her take away his favorite breakfast, too. _ _

__He grabbed some towels from the closet, now stuffed full with two full laundry bags. He’d been doing pretty good locking down any emotion until it had come to the bedroom. He’d finished putting the phone back together, then senselessly grabbed a pillow, pushing it against his face and inhaling deeply. That perfume, so lightly scented, ‘from Paris,’ she’d said, still lingered. On the pillow, the sheets, the duvet. He’d sat there, the good memories letting the pain drift away, but then the vision of the execution – the confession - came back. He’d ripped everything off the bed, angrily stuffed it into a laundry bag and slammed the closet door shut. Then he opened the closet, grabbed a blanket and threw that on the couch in the living room. He couldn’t sleep on that bed, not tonight._ _

__Towels in hand, he looked around. Remarkably, all seemed fine. Surveillance devices secured. Nothing incriminating found. When his search had begun, he’d pushed the bar cart and its selection of whiskeys and liquors into a corner, tossing a towel over it. Out of sight, out of mind. If he’d started drinking now, he didn’t know if he could stop, if he wouldn’t end up passed out on the floor. Or worse. He knew he could be a pretty ugly drunk if the situation were bad. He’d been there before._ _

__His remaining clothes were tossed to the bathroom floor. He stepped into the shower. The water turned hot in seconds, sluicing through his hair and down the rest of his body. He leaned his aching head against the smooth tile wall, letting the heat do its work, removing the tension that had insinuated itself in every muscle of his body. To let him forget. Oh god, he just wanted to _forget_. Forget everything. _ _

__And then Susie was there, standing outside the shower. She was wearing a frilly pink negligee that ended just below her hips. The material was so thin he could see her through it, knew she wore no underwear. He’d reached out, grabbing her by the arm and pulled her into the shower with him, delighting in the squeal of laughter she’d made as she stood in front of him, the delicate wet fabric clinging greedily to every pore of her skin, outlining everything, a sight even more erotic than seeing her naked. Quinn’s throat tightened, choking on a cry as he pushed away the once happy memory._ _

__He slammed his palm hard against the tile, relishing the pain that overrode his thoughts, but it vanished far too quickly. He hated her. Hated her for seducing him. Using him. Hated that she’d threatened Hynek and Mimi. Loathed himself for letting it happen, for being such a complete and utter fool. Hated that she was gone, that his entire career might be over. Hated that he’d never hear her laugh again, kiss those soft lips again. He felt himself slide down the water-slicked wall, landing hard on the shower floor. The water pummeled him like a steady rain shower, rinsing away the tears that he couldn’t stop. The steady patter of water couldn’t mask the sound of the sob that was finally torn from him._ _

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Allen was thankful that the locksmith was as good as Mimi remembered. A family run business, the man with the gray hair had told Hynek after he’d driven up in a non-descript van that didn’t scream ‘locksmith’ and attract even more attention. There was a tiny logo and phone number on the side doors, but that was it. Horace Lewis and his son Timothy followed Allen throughout the house, diligently assessing what needed to be done. They’d stopped briefly to stare at the chalk mark on the floor, then both locksmiths did the sign of the cross before proceeding. Both men had heard about the incident and offered their sympathies.

To redo all the locks on the doors, desks and even some windows that the locksmiths strongly suggested be reinforced, would take a couple hours. The price was reasonable, but more important was that Mimi was comfortable with being alone in the house with both men. She was usually a good judge of character, Susie notwithstanding – she’d fooled everyone – so Allen felt at ease going to work for the day. He was only a phone call away. Now to just get some breakfast before Quinn arrived. 

There was a knock at the door. 

Hynek sighed. If this was another well-meaning, nosy neighbor he’d punch the man, or woman, whatever the case may be. Instead, when he swung the door open, Quinn stood there, in full dress blues, smiling. He had a newspaper tucked under one arm. 

“Hey, Doc.” Quinn jabbed his thumb back at the locksmith’s car. “Good to get it done as soon as possible.” He pushed past the puzzled Hynek and walked in. 

“You’re early. Half an hour early.” Hynek shut the door, observing Quinn as the man surveyed the hall area as though he’d never been there before. This was not good. 

It wasn’t as though he’d expected Quinn to show up looking like he’d gotten only an hour’s sleep, was an emotional wreck over what Susie had done to him, or worried to hell and back over his job, but Quinn looked _normal_. And smiling? That was just— 

“Doc.” Quinn turned around, not smiling, which Hynek found to be a significant relief. “Is Mimi doing okay?” 

“As good as be expected,” replied Hynek carefully. “She's strong. How are you doing?” 

“Fine,” replied Quinn. 

_And Quinn had the audacity to call HIM a liar?_ Yes, he looked okay, at least to someone who hadn’t seen Quinn the evening before. The trouble was Hynek knew Quinn could shut down his emotions in order to get the job done. The mission was priority, everything else took a back seat. It was probably one of the reasons that he wasn’t married. Any woman who took those vows would have to realize Quinn’s job was his life. 

“Captain? You’re early.” 

Both men turned around as Mimi came into the room. Hynek studied Quinn, noticing Quinn intently studying Mimi. She looked tired, but she was no longer shaky from shock or grief. No, she was pretty pissed off at Susie, for the most part, and still trying to figure how to handle telling Joel about what had transpired. They’d made a plan that when she picked him up, they’d do lunch, take in a movie, delay his arrival home until Allen got back in the evening. 

“Well, the generals got my message,” Quinn said. “The s—um, it’s hit the fan. They want to see us, ASAP.” 

“I haven’t had breakfast.” Even to Hynek, that sounded like a pitiful whine. 

Quinn held up his watch and tapped it. “You got five minutes, Doc.” 

“You’re kidding?” 

Quinn turned to Mimi. “You’re okay with him going to the office, after..?” he asked, almost hesitantly. 

“I’ll be fine, Captain.” She nodded, smiling at Allen. It seemed to ease any concern Quinn had. 

“Oh!” Quinn suddenly beamed. He whipped the newspaper out from under his arm, snapping it open to show the front page. “Good news.” 

Hynek stared at the headline, utterly confused at what the salacious words in massive font meant in context, to well, anything. Mimi came up to his side, uttering a small gasp. “I’ve driven past that store!” 

Quinn smiled, a normal action but one that now left Hynek feeling oddly scared. He even caught Mimi giving him an anxious side glance. She no doubt felt the same. 

“Murders are a dime a dozen.” Quinn hadn’t noticed the quick glances between the couple. “But… busting a brothel over a florist shop. Shots fired. The CEO of a bank literally getting caught with pants down. You’re off the front page. Yesterday’s news.” 

Now Hynek understood Quinn’s bizarre attitude. This scandal would save the Hyneks from more intrusive well-wishers. It was true. Bad news rotated on a daily basis. What was just horrendous on Tuesday could be forgotten by Wednesday if something worse came along, as apparently it had. 

“Doc, just grab something. You can eat in the car.” Quinn’s demeanor had done a complete one-eighty. The serious Quinn who the day before had been castigating him for lying was back. He cast a quick glance toward the living room floor. A darkness seemed to flash over his eyes, then it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. He turned back to Allen. “Three minutes. I’ll be in the car. Don’t make me honk the horn.” 

Allen just stood there, staring as Quinn popped a cigarette in his mouth and left the house. The door slowly swung shut until it he heard the click. 

Mimi came up to him a moment later, a brown bag in her hand. When had she disappeared to the kitchen? She almost missed placing it in his hand as she looked at the door. “What was _that_?” 

“I don’t know.” He looked into the depths of the small bag. “Peanut butter and jelly?” 

“Joel loves it.” Mimi said in a no-nonsense tone. “ _Talk_ to him.” 

“I’ll try.” 

Somehow, Allen didn’t think this was going to end well. Quinn rarely told him anything personal. It had literally been a challenge down in Hopkinsville to get the younger man to answer a question. Everything he’d learned about Quinn had been from keen observation, a skill honed over years of being a university professor, learning how to figure out why students were performing poorly. 

No, he thought as he took his hat off the coat rack, put on his coat, grabbed his briefcase that he’d left nearby. Quinn was doing what he did best, his job. Not letting his personal life interfere. Mimi handed him his bagged breakfast, then kissed him on the cheek. He returned it, longer than he normally would have. He could have lost her the night before. 

As Allen walked slowly toward the sleek black car, Quinn stood there, ramrod straight as he puffed on probably his third cigarette of the day. Allen offered a smile that was patently false, held up his bagged lunch and wiggled it in the manner he’d sometimes seen Mimi do with Joel. Quinn made a thumbs-up gesture and got into the car. 

No, thought Allen drearily as he opened the passenger door. It wasn’t a matter of _if_ Quinn would implode from all the devastating things that had happened, but _when_. 

Allen just didn’t know if he’d be able to help Quinn pick up the pieces when that happened. 

**END**


End file.
